


Skin-Swimming: River Interlude

by tielan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Off-World, Romance, Sex, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:23:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earth calls it 'skinny dipping'; the Athosians call it 'skin-swimming'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin-Swimming: River Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Written in August 2007.

She dunked him before, when first they came to the river and she deceived him with a kiss before tipping him into the river.

But Teyla knows play is at an end when John catches her in the shallows and tugs her up against him.

Lean muscles tense beneath his skin as her body presses against his. Desire uncurls in her belly as he pushes wet hair from her face and brings her mouth to his in a hungry kiss that sears her spine from nape to buttocks, where his hands cup her lightly, pulling her closer.

Her hands slide over his shoulders, and not all the cool of the night water can disguise the heat running in their flesh.

When she invited him to come skin-swimming after the _hireni_ hunt, she thought this might happen. She did not plan for it, but if it did, she decided she would not protest it.

So when he lifts his mouth from hers to ask the superfluous question, she ignores him and flicks her tongue beneath his ear, tasting skin-salt and fresh water.

“Teyla...”

“Shh, John,” she murmurs in his ear. “I am busy.”

“I can tell that,” he groans as Teyla bestows a chain of kisses along his collarbone. Beneath her fingers, the flat, hard lines of chest rise and fall in slow pants. Her tongue circles each nipple once as her fingers drift down across his belly, down over his thighs, and her kisses nibble at his breastbone, down the line of hairs from his belly button...

This low in the water, the river is sleek against her skin, impersonal caresses across her breasts and belly to counter the caressing feel of John’s hands on her body. Later, she will feel John’s mouth on nipples swollen with anticipation; later, she will rise against him as his tongue slides into her cleft; but she wants her mouth on him _now_.

Her name is hoarse on his lips as she takes the domed tip of him into hers, a slow parting of her lips and a slower laving of her tongue. John’s hands clench on her shoulders as she explores the crevices and folds of him with exquisite slowness, and laughs at his tremors.

When she lifts her head from his flesh, he husks her name and she runs her tongue across him once more, to hear his voice crack, to feel his fingers clench.

He hauls her up, rougher now, and his hands are ungentle as he cradles her head in his hands, seizing her mouth with hungry possessiveness. His skin is hot beneath the cool drops that slide across his shoulders. Teyla takes his shoulders in her hands, but does not relinquish his mouth as she pushes him back, does not allow him to gasp more than once as the cold water touches his buttocks and thighs, does not hesitate as she thrusts down onto him, a ferocious taking.

The fierce intimacy of his hands on her breast and her hip is savoured as are his kisses, the long, sleek swallows that devour them both, taker and giver in one. Every thrust is met, the skin-tingling stretch of flesh against flesh. Rich river-mud mingles with the tang of skin-salt in her nostrils, and her fingers grope and clench on the tags around his throat.

Teyla moves on him, over him, and every down-thrust pierces her deeper with a pleasurable ache that yet nears release. She possesses and is possessed - one of the old, angry goddesses of primitive Earth belief, and John is her sacrifice, appeasement to her naked desire, to be taken and splayed and used.

He tilts back his head as he spends himself, shuddering and groaning, but his upturned lips feather her jaw with tiny bites, and she doesn’t stop moving until she shivers, shivers, _shivers_.

Blinding moonlight, infinite shadow, rustling leaf, drumming heartbeat; Teyla returns slowly to the trickle of cool water over her shoulder and down her breast. John is dripping handfuls of water on her shoulder, fingering wet trails across her cheekbones and forehead.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Conscious again?”

Her mouth quirks. “Mmhm.”

“I was that good, huh?”

The smile deepens. “Mmhm.”

“Will you still go ‘mmhm’ if I drag you out to the centre of the river and dunk you again?”

She laughs then, a chuckle she muffles against his shoulder. “I might drown.” But when his hand cups her hip, and he starts shifting them out of the shallows and towards deeper water, she drifts along with him. His body is buoyant as cool water replaces what was soft mud, and they slide out a little deeper into the night.


End file.
